#virumbelli

[blindjustiice-blog]

@virumbelli 

     “Just stop. Think it  T H R O U G H.”

[trash-ninja-blog]

❝ if i had forty-seven dragons, i’d give you one. but only one. ❞

| virumbelli - meme |

Matt tilts his head, laughing a little at Frank’s remark. “What? Only one…?”

[dcviltongued]

Sense Profile

Smell: He rarely smells clean, of soap or cologne, but when he does it’s a cheap generic brand that doesn’t carry much scent at all (like Dial). His most common scent is a mixture of sweat, gunpowder, and other residue from his weapons of choice.

Taste: The salty sweat mixed with the metallic taste of blood is present on almost every inch of skin that is left uncovered. His mouth retains the taste of blood, but it is more faint, usually overpowered by the taste of black coffee and spearmint gum.

Sounds: He walks with an even step, trained to be light on his feet unless he wishes to alert others to his presence. In the latter situation, one would hear the crunch of gravel beneath heavy combat boots.

If his step is even his heartbeat is what keeps his rhythm. Even in the most anxiety-inducing situations, his heartbeat does not speed up; only when he sleeps does it slow down, but not by much. It takes a lot to get his heart rate going- nowadays it seems the only thing that gets it going is rigorous exercise.

His breathing is the only sound that is erratic in its rhythm. It will often come out in long drags, not dissimilar to his speech. When his adrenaline spikes, it becomes a soft pant. Because of near constant swelling around his nose, he will often breathe through his mouth in situations where his breathing because most erratic.

Touch: The clothing he wears is usually made of inexpensive materials, some of which are coarse and rough to the touch. The softest clothing he owns are cotton t-shirts, which he often wears as the closest layer to his skin.

His skin is not so soft either. Day-old stubble covers his jaw, old scars cover quite a bit of the rest. Jagged lines and thick craters map out his skin, each mark with their own story. Underneath the surface, knots and contusions from more recent affairs raise his skin in unnatural locations, below his kneecap and above the base of his skull.

[techmaestro]

txt; Okay first of all, that is a sick-ass nickname, please call me that forever. Second, I need your help.

[Text:] I would but I think there was a crossed wire and you didn’t text the person you thought you were. But. I can still with the helping. What kind of helping are we talking?

[andxpeggyarchive-blog]

Hey!

send me ‘HEY’ and i’ll say nice things about you || accepting || @virumbelli

so to be completely honest, frank castle is awesome, and can be such a hard character to pull off. but you know what?  your portrayal is so on point. i enjoy it immensely. makes me sO happy. we haven’t talked or anything [which should change tbh], but you seem so cool!! i’m so excited to interact with you more <3

[jediveinedd-blog]

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

RENEE GTFO YOU KNOW I ADORE YOU YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH AND I JUST WANNA CUDDLE U FOREVER TBH SORRY FOR THE GAY

[elektranaatchios]

@virumbelli liked for a starter

“you know i would have thought the man who had the entirety of hell’s kitchen quaking in their boots would be a little more impressive.”

[awwcoffee-no]

@virumbelli

The hawk shifted on the rooftop, feet perched on a rather alert matter. His bow wasn’t drawn, but it was obvious his eyes were tracking some movement below. Often, Clint would barrel himself from rooftops, having set out a rather safe plan for his landing. Honestly, it scared the shit out of muggers. Some guy who is a good two hundred and thirty pounds soaring from the dark caused a few soiled pants and safe civilians. On more than one occasion he would jokingly let out a screech in the sound of his alter ego’s name, Hawkeye. 

This was his plan, well not the screeching part, just launching towards this idiot waving a knife around, when he stopped dead. The man’s head tilted as he watched a rather large figure step into the alley lite and his eyes quickly filled information as to whom it was. Large, broad shoulder, dark hair, large guns, and the unmistakable white skull. The Punisher was in town hmm? 

Now, he was interested because the guy didn’t go around blasting muggers.. at least he didn’t think so. Curiosity more than anything had his feet pressing from the cold stone above, landing on a lower edge, and then flipped to steady himself on the solid city floor. He could tell that the man, if he hadn’t, he was going to piss himself. The Punisher and Hawkeye staring you down didn’t sound like a fun time. “Hey fellas.. what’s the deal here?”